


Formerly Soldier

by hondatohru14



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hondatohru14/pseuds/hondatohru14
Summary: Lazy Octarian soldier meets Agent 4. Shenanigans ensue that may or may not develop a friendship.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Formerly Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Another OC fic that i enjoyed enough and figured was general enough that other ppl that don't know my OCs could still enjoy it!

“…How long are you planning on just sitting there, watching me?”

The Octoling perched on a metal beam perked slightly, and leaned forward.

“On the contrary, I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.” The Inkling below him tilted her head, brow knitting.

“How’s that contrary?”

The Octoling shrugged. “Dunno, just felt like letting you know how successfully I’ve been stalking you without your notice. You’re very interesting to watch, y’know.”

“I’m… basically invading your home, and you just find that _interesting?_ ”

“Mm-hm.”

The two stared at each other a few seconds, before the Inkling remarked, “That’s… weird. I’d’ve thought-”

“-I’d be so upset and angry that I’d try to shoot you down on sight like most everyone else?” He leaned back. “C’mon, just ‘cause I’m loyal doesn’t mean I’ve got a death wish. You learn quick, I’ve seen that. I figure I’m not much use to anyone if I’m stuck in a respawn queue running on generators from the great Octarians.” He gestured up at the sky, or at least the imitation of it, and the bright light beaming down.

“Respawn… queue?” she asked, straightening a little.

“Yeah, after last time we weren’t stupid enough to have the points running only on the li’l fish. Too risky. But without them powering em, it… certainly takes longer.”

The Inkling seemed to chew on that a moment, and he waited for a reaction. When it didn’t come soon enough, he decided to push it along.

“So- bad news for you- we don’t actually die when you kill us! Or, good news, I suppose, seeing that you’ve seemed to have a conscience.” He crossed his legs, resting his elbow on his knee and plopping his chin into his hand. “Which means you’ve been taking extra time and effort to go out of your way for us that wasn’t needed. It’s very sweet- how considerate of you when you’re ‘basically invading my home’.”

She threw a look up at him that said she wasn’t sure whether to be offended, embarrassed, or relieved.

There it was.

He grinned smugly.

“I’m not a killer. I’m just taking back what was stolen from us. I wasn’t sure if- if you guys had protection or not, so I wasn’t gonna-”

“You’re acting like you gotta defend yourself,” he noted, raising an eyebrow.

She blinked.

“…You’re right, I don’t,” she said, looking down in apparent thought. “It’s not like I’m expected to-” She cut short and looked back up at him. “Why am I talking to you?”

“I think you were wondering how long I was gonna watch you. Which is probably gonna be for a while, so you might wanna get a move on.”

She blinked twice again, clearly thrown off, before turning and starting to leave. She paused a second and it seemed like she started to turn back, but then she shook her head and kept going.

He puffed a breath of air out his nose in a short laugh, and sat up.

Very interesting.

* * *

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” he called out from his vantage point.

The Inkling let out a frustrated noise. “Yes, I’ve noticed it’s not working. Thank you for your very valuable input.”

He’d been taking a chance, but he’d guessed correctly- she’d had a charger, after all, and if she’d been startled, his callout could’ve ended fairly badly.

Or it had the small possibility of ending badly, as he’d already been standing and ready to move.

But he didn’t need to, since she apparently recognized his voice. Had he stuck out to her that much just from the one conversation? Huh.

“Well, any advice?”

He shifted his weight to one side, leaning on his Splatling. “Why would I give you any help?”

Now she turned to face him. “Your choice to speak up kind of made it seem like you actually had something to bring to the conversation.”

“The conversation can only be about those switches? You’re more boring than I assumed you’d be.”

“I-” Her mouth twisted. “You know what I mean.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

Conversation went quiet as, after a second, she turned back around and began shooting again.

Nothing about her situation changed, and he grinned. “Y’know, you don’t-”

She whirled around. “If all you’re going to do is stand there and heckle me, you and I are both better off if you’d actually take your job seriously and stop slacking off.”

He leaned back a little, blinking, and said nothing. She also said nothing.

Neither said anything.

And then she turned back around and charged a shot again.

Ink splattered the ground instead of a switch, and the Inkling’s shoulders dropped. He heard her say something, but it wasn’t clear enough.

“What?”

“Sorry,” she repeated, louder, turning her head to speak over her shoulder. “This is just frustrating me. Shouldn’t’ve lashed out, even if we’re enemies.”

He waved it off even though she wasn’t fully turned around and so didn’t see it. “Nah, you’re probably right- I mean, if I did my job I wouldn’t risk getting caught slacking, because I do very much slack. Fighting for my life isn’t something that’s really my speed- I mean, if I _have_ to, I’ll do it. I am able to. Graduated at the top of my class, yadda yadda. I’m skilled. I’m very skilled. Could’ve even been an Elite, but they said I didn’t have the drive for it, and they’re right. It’s not an insult, it’s just the truth. Now… if it was more of a fun competition instead of battling it out for the right to live, I might enjoy it more. That’s why I did so well in school.”

Now she was facing him, watching him with an unreadable look.

“Whoops, is that oversharing?” he asked lightly with a tilted grin.

“…You mean like… turf wars?”

“What does the turf war have to do with oversharing?” He raised an eyebrow.

“What? No. Fun competition.”

“Wooow, way to rub in our loss however long ago. Good to know you guys viewed the war as just a fun little competition and didn’t take the-”

She waved her hands. “No, no, not that, I mean like- we do-” She sighed as her eyes wandered. “We have arenas, with spawn points. Two teams try to cover the arena turf in their own ink color, and whoever has the most turf covered at the end wins. That’s called turf wars.”

He slowly nodded his head once, hand coming up to rest against his chin. “Huh.”

“I don’t participate in them, because of… well, _this_.” She gestured around them. “And… a few other things. But my brother does, along with most everybody else in Inkopolis around our age.”

“Can I ask what the few other things are?”

“No.”

“Fair.”

She turned back around and observed the moving puzzle in front of her for a few moments, then pulled her charger up.

And this time, she got it.

* * *

He didn’t say anything this time, not at first. He just hopped on the rail after her and followed.

With all the noise, it was impossible for her to not know she had a follower anyways, so he just waited. After a couple hops around obstacles, she glanced back and familiarity struck her expression.

She didn’t speak to him, he assumed either because she felt awkward after last time, or because they were moving fast enough the air was whipping around them and there was no point in talking when they wouldn’t be heard.

Turned out it was the latter, because once they both landed at the end of the rail, she was the first to speak.

“Back again?”

“I was curious. Hello to you, too,” he said with a smile and a raised hand.

“Ah-” She faltered. “Hi.”

He swung his Splatling around and she flinched for her own weapon, but he just sat it on the ground and then sat himself on top of it. She relaxed.

“…Curious about what?”

“Ink wars!”

“Turf wars,” she corrected.

“Like I said, turf wars!”

She opened her mouth, but then just let out a small sigh as she grinned. He returned the expression.

“Well, what do you want to know about it? What I said last time is really all there is to know about it, except that the prize for winning is money.”

“Is it a big competition? You said a lot of people participate, so it’s gotta be big, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, there’s tournaments and stuff all the time. I don’t know all the details of those, but my brother’s big in the competitive scene.”

He pondered that a moment. “Hm… Dunno that I’d do well with all of that pressure.”

“Well, I mean… there’s also casual play that people do all the time. Tournaments are organized competitions between established teams, and casual turf war is two randomized teams against each other just for fun and a bit of extra money.”

His eyes lit up. “That sounds great! Yes! That! No pressure, just fun.”

“Uh-huh, that’s-” She suddenly looked mildly confused. “I thought you did well in school because of the competition?”

“Nope.” His head shook. “I did well because I found it fun. Wasn’t competitive enough to be an Elite, remember?”

“Being driven and being competitive are two different things.”

“Maybe. I didn’t have enough of either/or to really _excel_ , even though I was in the top.”

The two were silent a moment.

“Hey,” she started. “Maybe you could… y’know, escape up to the surface and try out turf war for yourself, maybe you’ll…” He was staring at her like she’d just slapped him in the face, and she blinked. “…What?”

“No!” He said incredulously, and adjusted his glasses. “No, I can’t do that! Escape to the surface? What are you even talking about? First of all, I’d be hugely unwelcome up there, and second, that’d mean I’d have to abandon everything down here! Just because I’m talking to you instead of trying to kill you doesn’t mean I’m a traitor! I’m just playing my cards smart, that’s all!”

She seemed a little taken aback. “O-oh, I… Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you were. I just…” Her mouth pulled back in a small grimace, and her eyes darted to the side. “Sorry.”

His lips twisted to the side. “…I can see how you thought that, though. I’m just curious because it sounds fun, but I’d never in my life set foot upside if it wasn’t for a mission. Or unless we somehow seize the surface. I’m just… learning things to maybe try to…” He sighed, gaze lowering to the ground. “I wish we had that down here is all.”

Silence reigned a second more.

“…Well…” she hesitantly started. He looked up. “Turf war… isn’t the only competition. I could… tell you about all the different games and rules, as best I can remember them.” Her head slightly jerked to the side, and her eyes darted sideways in annoyance, like she was looking at the headset she was wearing. She reached up and clicked something on it, and then returned her attention to him. In the meantime, he’d straightened considerably and now wore an expectant grin.

“Tell me.”

* * *

“Hey, Stalker, I got this for you.”

He had been lying down on the ground, leisurely waiting, and now snapped out of his accidental doze to find that she was standing over him, holding papers down in his direction.

He sat up and turned around.

“You… got something for me?”

“Yeah, you seemed interested in some of the stuff on the surface, so I thought I’d show you something else.” She shook the papers- no, it was a booklet- in her hand towards him. He slowly reached out and took it.

It was all in Inklish, but he’d also learned how to read and write it as well as speak it, so it didn’t faze him. It had a flashy cover, with a huge title in all caps: THE AMAZING SPIDER-LING. It showed an Inkling in a very… _interesting_ outfit, with… string coming out of his wrists?

He looked up at her.

“What is this?”

“It’s a comic book!” she replied with a grin.

“A comic book,” he repeated.

“Yeah, my brother likes to read some of these, and I thought maybe you’d like to try reading one.”

“Huh,” was all he replied with as he opened the comic book.

Well.

He ended up rooted to that spot until he finished it, and she, for some reason, had sat down and waited on him to read it.

The instant he closed the flimsy book, she leaned towards him. “So? What’d you think?”

As if the look of giddy wonder on his face didn’t give it away.

“I love it!” He broke out into a smile. “It’s not like any books we have down here- it’s formatted so _weird_ with it telling the story in pictures and such and _superpowers_?? Dang, I wish I could have those.”

“There’s more comic books,” she said with a grin.

His eyes widened, just a little. “Can I read them?”

She laughed as she stood up. “I’ll bring some more next time. I didn’t wanna grab a bunch of them and bring them down if you ended up not liking them, so that’s the only one I had with me today.”

“In that case, definitely please bring more next time.”

“I will,” she promised, smiling.

He stared at her a second, and then shook his head, grinning.

“What?”

“You’re weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re shooting your way through enemy home turf, but you make friends with the soldiers?”

She did the tiniest double-take he’d ever seen in his life. “You mean we’re friends?”

“Well-” He balked. “I said _you_ make friends, not that _I_ make friends.” He crossed his arms to further the point. “Or- _we_.”

She chuckled. “I never said I was here to-” She faltered, and blinked. “Wait, um… -Ah.” Her composure regained, she continued, “I’m only here to get back what was stolen- who said I can’t make friends along the way? Besides, you’ve had plenty opportunity to attack me yourself, but you haven’t yet.”

He turned his head away, but his eyes were still on her. “Like I said, you’re weird and so, therefore, interesting to watch. You deal with situations in a way that I wouldn’t have thought, so it’s… it’s a learning experience! That’s all. And you’re fun to heckle.”

“Ah, good to know I have a stalker just because I’m fun to heckle.”

“Did you just completely ignore the learning part?”

“Maybe because I don’t quite believe it.”

“Well, you should,” he insisted. “It’s true.”

“Hm… Maybe at first it was.”

“Listen,” he said, turning back to her and holding up the comic book, “You gonna bring me more comic books or not?”

She laughed and raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fine. I’ll accept the subject change for now.” Her hands lowered. “I’ll bring more next time, promise.”

He considered for a second, then nodded in satisfaction. “Cool. Seeya ‘round!”

He superjumped away before she could say anything, but he swore he could’ve heard her laugh as he jumped.

* * *

She was moving too fast and there was a problem with the great Octarian’s power flow in this sector- there was no preparation time, no respawns and she was assumedly making her way through all willy-nilly, thinking it was just another sector to go through.

He’d never run so fast in his life.

As he followed her trail, he tried not to be sick. She didn’t know. She didn’t know.

Two superjumps and what felt like a mile later, he finally found her, coming up on a small arena. This was where-

Oh no.

Nooo, no no no-

He pushed himself to run even faster, trying to ignore his screaming legs that begged him to stop and rest, ignoring the pounding in his ears that attempted to drown out all other sound, just to-

“STOP!” he yelled, voice cracking.

The Inkling and young Octoling in front of him froze, thrown off by the sudden shout, and their heads turned to him as he near stumbled to a halt.

“D-don’t,” he panted, looking at the Inkling. “She’s- she’s new.”

Somehow, he couldn’t tell her.

She looked confused, and that was understandable. “What do you-” _Splat._

His breath caught in his throat for a second as she exploded into a puddle of purple ink, but her spawn was connected to power from the surface somehow or something- the lucky squid- and he slowly let out the breath as she floated back to her previous one.

He looked to the other Octoling that was shaking as she still held the charger pointed at the ink puddle.

At least he’d been partially telling the truth- she _was_ new.

“Thanks- for the distraction,” she stuttered out.

“I wasn’t distracting her so you could get in a cheap shot,” he retorted, and then let his demeanor relax as she looked to him. She was new, after all. “She was gonna kill you.”

“But the spawns-”

“Aren’t working.”

The girl froze, eyes wide.

“Not here, anyways. Not right now. …C’mon, we need to- warn the rest of ‘em.”

By the time the Inkling returned to the spot, the two were long gone.

* * *

She was just sitting there.

And this time, he didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t even know if he should let her know he was there.

He hadn’t for the past two sectors, after all.

“Stop staring.”

…Or maybe it was too late to sneak off.

He hopped down and stepped over to where she sat, legs dangling off the edge of the floating platform, eyes blankly fixed on the screens far in front of her.

“…You’ve slowed down,” he quietly noted as he, too, sat.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked away.

“I thought something was off- I didn’t see- they didn’t- it wasn’t like normal, where they… _went_ somewhere, they just… _disappeared_ , and I didn’t- I didn’t _mean_ to-”

“I know.”

“But I didn’t realize it! I should’ve from the get-go, I should’ve-” Her head shook. “I shouldn’t have even _risked_ it, even if you were right way back because I- I should’ve counted on problems happening, I’m not- I’m not-”

“You’re not a killer.”

“I’m not,” she repeated, voice shaking, and she sniffed. He finally looked at her to find that she was… crying. Crying for _enemy soldiers_. “I’m _not_.”

“You’re not,” he repeated, wavering in his own voice. “You didn’t know.”

They sat.

And they sat.

“…Was she really new?” She had yet to take her eyes away from the spot in the distance.

“She was. Is.”

“Mm.” There was another pause before she spoke again. “…Thanks for- for stopping…”

“Yeah.”

“…If. If I’d known sooner, I would’ve-”

“But you didn’t. And I didn’t, either. Once I _did_ know, I- I got there as fast as I could.”

Her eyes widened. “And you had to see all of- I’m so _sorry,_ I-”

“I know you are. You didn’t know.”

They sat.

She sniffed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

He tried not to think back to running through purple ink.

“Hey, I… I talked to a few others. About trying out a small turf war.”

And she glanced at him.

“…You did?”

He nodded.

“They seemed open to it. I just… presented it as a training exercise, with the bonus of competition pushing people to do well.”

They sat, and both looked forward.

“…Do you think they’ll try it any time soon?”

He grinned, barely. “I think so. We’d just need to figure out where. And when.”

“…That’s good.”

“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”

They sat.

And they sat.

* * *

“Hey, Stalker.”

“Hey, Agent.”

She gave a tired grin as she looked across the gap at him, sitting on a wooden platform, trying to balance his Splatling on end.

“Having fun?”

“I try,” he responded as he darted forward to catch his weapon before it fully fell to the side.

She was quiet for a minute, just standing there, and he spared another glance to find a melancholy look on her face.

Granted, it’d been there since…

He tried to balance his weapon again.

“Had my- _our_ \- first turf war the other day.”

“Oh?” She seemed to perk a little. “How was it?”

“It was pretty fun- my team won. I think. We ended up arguing about the results for a couple minutes, and then the ink went away anyways, so who knows? I like to think we won, though.”

The tired grin returned.

“Yeah, we’ve got a cat to tell us who won so we can’t argue with each other about it. He’s good at his job.”

He looked over at her.

“…What’s a cat.”

She stared at him for a second, blinking.

“Um.”

He held his Splatling still.

“It’s… He’s uh… Well. He’s furry and soft.”

“ _Furry_?”

“Y-yeah, he’s not- he’s not like us at all. He can’t change forms. He’s also really small, like about the size of a jellyfish but fat, and…”

His eyes were squints as he tried to imagine what on earth kind of person she was talking about.

“Um- here, let me…” She gave a running start and hopped the gap, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a phone. He sat up straighter as she crouched, tapping on the screen. His head tilted to the side to try and see. She turned it away. He sat back. “Here.” She turned the phone to him, and he stared at the picture he was presented with.

A hand reached into frame from off-screen, presumably hers, though the jacket was a different color- maybe she was off-duty or something. But more importantly, the hand was petting a creature that looked like a giant, fuzzy pillow with ears, a nose, a mouth, and a tail that wrapped around itself. The eyes were just slits- or maybe they were closed? Probably closed. They looked closed. The cat looked very, very soft.

He wanted to try petting him.

“That’s a cat,” she said.

“I… want to see the cat someday, I think.”

She pulled the phone away and stood back up, hands going to her hips. “Well, I can’t really bring him down here, so if you wanna see him, you’ll have to sneak up to the surface somehow.”

“Hm. Trying to motivate me, huh?”

One of her eyebrows quirked. “What makes you think that? I’m just stating facts.”

“It won’t work, you know. I’m staying down here.”

She grinned. “I know.” The grin started to fade, and before he could pull out another distraction for them both, she spoke again. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve… been wondering. How do you know so much Inklish?”

“Oh- that’s easy.” He started trying to balance the Splatling again. “I trained for Undercover Ops first, and Inklish was part of the course. I later decided sneaking around, while fun, didn’t allow for nearly as much time for goofing off. So I switched over.”

“Huh. Didn’t know there _was_ an Undercover Ops.”

He paused in his movement, and a nervous grin slowly appeared. “…Whoops?”

She breathed out a laugh for the first time since the last comic book delivery, and the nervous grin became less nervous.

“Yo, Agent.”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think I might like to try a turf war with you at some point.”

She looked surprised. “With me?”

“Yeah. No stakes, just for fun. Test skills without worrying.” He didn’t say about what, and she didn’t give it any notice. Probably intentionally.

“You know what?” she started, a thoughtful tone to her voice. “I might take you up on that. If you can get a spot that I wouldn’t have to worry about anybody else joining in-” She clicked a button on her headset again. “I think it might… be fun. Yeah.” She grinned, a little less tiredly.

“Deal?” He offered up his hand.

She shook it.

“Yeah, sure. Deal.”

* * *

DJ Octavio’s music boomed through the huge stadium, and the crowd roared.

Except for one Octoling, who sat on the edge of his seat, tense and taut as a guitar string.

He’d never told Agent about the singer from the surface. He hoped she didn’t hold it against him.

Agent disappeared in a splat of purple ink, and the crowd’s roar intensified. The pit in his stomach grew.

He wanted- he _needed_ Octavio to win. They all did. But weirdly enough, at the same time, he really didn’t want Agent to lose. Like, maybe if she could lose without dying, that’d be nice. But who knew what’d happen to her if…

She jumped back in the arena. He leaned forward just a tad more.

She scored another hit, and then another, and he gasped as Octavio was thrown back out of his bot. She gunned for him, and as he jumped to the bot again, the weirdest thing happened.

The music ground to a halt.

And someone new entered, voice echoing around the arena.

 _Her_.

He, along with who-knew-how-many Octarians and Octolings, shot to his feet as she _sniped the glasses off_ of the brainwashed singer.

 _Dang_ , what a shot! It only sucked that it aided the opposing team.

And then… she pulled out a boombox.

And a song started playing, and the two singers reunited on top of the- the flying _van_ that the newcomers came in.

Octavio rose up close to the ceiling as new beats resounded in the stadium, ones that even the Octarian audience couldn’t help but start dancing to.

What kind of music _was_ this?!

He ripped his glasses off of his face, getting a clearer view of the singers and…

And, well. A lot of things.

He didn’t _want_ Octavio to win anymore, he realized.

He didn’t _want_ to stay down here, below the surface.

He didn’t _want_ to bring down the Inklings.

He wanted to join them.

Agent zipped around on ink rails far above his head, using a new weapon to beat back Octavio, and he found himself _cheering_ for her.

He knew it was impossible, but as Octavio fell from the sky, he hoped with all he had that somehow, Agent heard him above everyone else as he let out the loudest cheer he’d ever cheered.

And Octavio lost.

* * *

Sometimes, he thought back to his old life. The highs, the lows, the in-betweens.

Setting up small turf wars with his squad.

…He never did get that turf war with Agent.

He hoped she was doing ok.

A buzzer sounding off pulled him out of this thoughts, and he looked at his new squad- a mix of Inklings and Octolings- and booyah’d as a three-minute countdown started.


End file.
